


Together We Burn (alone we fall apart)

by thexqueen



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Closeted Character, Dubious Morality, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Possessive Behavior, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Unhealthy Relationships, by a gay character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thexqueen/pseuds/thexqueen
Summary: (“You’re blackmailing me,” Richie croaked, horror settling in his gut.)Caught doing something he shouldn't Richie is given an ultimatum; pay the fine or help Patrick Hockstetter pass his class.Unable to escape close contact with his most unsettling bully Richie is starting to find his gaze doesn't make him as nervous as before. Or maybe it just makes him nervous in a way Richie could never have expected.
Relationships: Patrick Hockstetter/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiigi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Pull Me Apart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546937) by [tiigi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiigi/pseuds/tiigi). 



Together We Burn (alone we fall apart)

It was a typical chilly November Tuesday when Richie received the worst news of his life. He was pulled aside by Ms. Bishum after his algebra class and asked to speak with her after school let out. He thought it was because she found out he was decorating the in-class textbooks with dicks for one heart-stopping second. He brushed that thought off a moment later, remembering she had no qualms about issuing detentions in front of the class.

"You shouldn't fucking do it anyway, moron!" Eddie shouted later during lunch when Richie expressed his relief and confusion. It was cute, Richie thought, how uptight Eddie could get. 

Smirking, Richie slung an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Aw, c'mon Eds lighten up, with the state of Derry's sex-ed they should be thanking me for providing such an accurate rendition of a dick. Maybe I'll start doing vaginas for some variety." He leaned back to avoid Eddie's swatting hand and laughed around a handful of Bill's fries.

Stan's droll "You'd have to see one first, dumbass" drew laughter from the other Losers. They continued laughing and ribbing each other until Bev dropped her voice and leaned across the table, face suddenly serious and pinched.

"Don't look now, but Bowers and his lackeys are making eyes at us." She said, tilting her chin slightly in their direction. The other Losers tensed and quickly focused on eating. However, Richie twisted in his seat only to lock eyes with Hockstetter, who seemed to be staring at him with an incredibly unhappy expression. They held each other's stare, unblinking, for what felt like hours before the bell rang, and the rush of students broke Richie's line of sight. 

He was brought back to the present by Eddie grabbing his arm and hissing a panicked "What the hell is wrong with you," which Richie just brushed off with a joke he didn't fully register. His mind remained caught on the strange intensity of Hockstetter's gaze for at least an hour after.

By the time the school day was over, Richie had mostly forgotten the stare down he had with the resident psycho. Of course, it all came rushing back when he entered Ms. Bishum's classroom. Patrick Hockstetter was slumped in a chair next to their teacher's desk. The unhappy expression from earlier settled firmly on his face. 

"Ah, Richie, thank you for stopping by." Ms. Bishum greeted, a strained smile stretching her lips unpleasantly. Richie understood, he also felt tense and uncomfortable when forced in Hockstetter's company.   
He moved further into the classroom, keeping a wary eye on the sprawled-out form of his   
bully. Once more, he found himself caught in the unsettling gaze of Patrick Hockstetter. There was something almost daring in his eyes, a kind of dangerous amusement. Richie got the feeling that if he ran, Hockstetter would hunt him down with vicious pleasure. Slowly Hockstetter dragged his eyes up and down his body before turning his attention back to his phone. Richie reluctantly turned his gaze to the teacher with a shudder. He carefully pulled the other chair farther away from Hockstetter before sitting down, ignoring the other's noise of derision.

"Relax fag, Hockstetter said, not even looking his way, "I'm not going to kill you in a classroom." Richie just kept his eyes firmly on the teacher, ignoring the shiver that crept up his spine. 

For the next half hour, Richie sat in cold shock as his teacher explained what she needed him for. Apparently, Hockstetter was failing algebra, which was impressive, considering they hadn't yet finished the first semester. As a senior, if he didn't pass, he wouldn't be able to graduate with his class this year. Which is where Richie is supposed to come in. As someone who currently has an A in AP algebra, and is helping some of his friends pass their own classes, he was now expected to help the older teen, somehow, pass. 

"Um, full offense, but I don't think Einstien could help him, so I'm just gonna say no," Richie said, tensing up in preparation to run. He watched as the bored look on Hockstetter's face twisted up to a sneer.

Luckily Ms. Bishum called his attention back to her by clearing her throat. "I'm afraid that's not an option, Richie." She fixed him with a stern look "The cost of all the books you've damaged is creeping up over $600." Richie choked on his next inhale and attempted to stumble through a denial between coughing. Ms. Bishum cut him off before he could dig himself into a hole. "Of course, if you can help Patrick get his grade up to a B- before the semester ends, we can just forget I know about it."

"You're blackmailing me," Richie croaked, horror settling in his gut. Ms. Bishum's lips pulled into a frown, and she shot Hockstetter a look of disapproval when he snorted in amusement. 

"Oh, and I'm sure you're fucking fine getting tutored by a Loser, huh?" Richie sneered, annoyance momentarily pushing his fear, and what little filter he had, aside. "Guess no one was jumping at the chance to spend time in your company." 

Surprisingly Hockstetter did not attempt to send Richie's teeth down his throat, opting to roll his eyes. "Damn Tozier, do you ever shut up? No wonder your parents are never around." 

Richie flinched and turned to say something, what he didn't know, but before he had the chance to stick his foot in his mouth and really piss Hockstetter off Ms. Bishum cut in "That's enough out of both of you! Patrick, you need to pass this class to graduate, and Richie, I will call your parents about the property damage you caused. Neither of you are getting out of this, so you might as well just accept it." She stood up and straightened her shirt with a jerky movement. "I'll let you boys figure out a schedule that works for the both of you, this" She handed both boys a thin packet of papers, "is what's expected of you. I will see you both tomorrow." She walked out of the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind her. 

Richie shifted in his seat before darting a nervous glance at the other teen. To his surprise, Hockstetter was actually flipping through the pages, a small furrow creasing his brow. Quickly, before he could be caught staring, he followed Hockstetter's example. It seemed pretty simple honestly, every Monday they would get a sheet of questions on top of their usual homework and Hockstetter would turn it in on Friday. To make sure he was actually doing the work, Hockstetter would take a quiz Fridays after school on what was on the sheet. In exchange, Richie wouldn't have to pay the damage fees and, if Hockstetter gets higher then a B- on his mid-term, extra credit on his own mid-term. Flipping to the last page revealed the math problems with the correct answers, he figured Hockstetter had a similar sheet. 

He startled, badly, at the scrape of metal on linoleum. Hockstetter had already grabbed his backpack by the time Richie stood up as well. "Whoa there," He said, putting both hands up as if that could ever stop Patrick Hockstetter. Said teen shifted his weight and stared, waiting for Richie to finish. "Um, we need to work out when we'll meet, and where I guess. The library is probably out unless you want to be stared at the whole fucking time. My house is a no-go too, I don't want you to know where I live since you're, well you. I don't really know anywhere else unless you wanna go out of town," his words cut off abruptly by the large, heavy hand pressing down on his mouth. Richie's eyes widened in shock; all he could smell was tobacco, hell he could practically taste it. Unconsciously his tongue darted out at the thought, and fuck he just licked Patrick Hockstetter's hand, what the fuck. Before he could send himself into a panic spiral, Hockstetter removed his hand, though he didn't wipe it off. He just stared with a look in his eyes Richie couldn't place before snatching the papers out of his hands. Not taking his eyes off Richie, he grabbed a pen off the teacher's desk and scribbled something across the front before pushing the packet into Richie's chest. "Tomorrow, five o'clock. Don't be late. Come alone." He said before stalking out the door. 

It took Richie a long minute or two before his shaking stopped enough to look at what was written. It was an address, Hockstetter's most likely. 

Oh, Richie was fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, wait, you’re really going to do it?” Mike asked later. He was sitting on a hay bale, a grey barn cats purring in his arms. The rest of the Losers were spread out doing homework or just lounging around. Eddie scoffed; he had spent the entire bike ride to the Hanlon’s farm alternating between scolding and gloating. Richie ignored him and sat up with

“I don’t have a choice. I sure as shit don’t have six-hundred dollars, and I’m not asking Went for it.” The others understood. None of them had great family lives and wouldn’t be comfortable asking for so much either. 

“And we can’t come with you?” Beverly asked with a frown. Hockstetter, after all, was the worst of a bad lot. All the Losers were afraid something could happen if Richie were alone with him or worse the entire Bower’s Gang. 

Richie shook his head “I don’t wanna risk pissing him off too much. Besides, he seems like he wants to graduate. Why would he agree to this bullshit in the first place?” The others reluctantly agreed. “More importantly, Mike, you think your grandpa would mind if I stole this cat?” He reached down to rub the ears of the cat purring at his feet. 

“How is that ‘more important’ asshole” Eddie snapped. Mike just shook his head with a grin, and the rest of the Losers settled in to watch the ‘Richie-and-Eddie Show.’ 

As the sky started to darken, the group took off, bidding Mike goodbye. One by one, the teens split off from each other until it was just Richie and Stan left. The two lived on the same street in the wealthier part of Derry, which is how they became friends in the first place. The two were silent as they walked their bikes down the road until they got to Stan’s house. 

“I’ll let my parents know you’ll be over tomorrow, they won’t care if you stay the night,” Stan said as they stood at the end of his driveway. For once, Richie didn’t try to brush his concern off with a joke. Stan was his best friend, his first friend, and the only one he felt comfortable enough around to put down his masks. So instead, he nodded his thanks and mounted his bike. As Richie sped down the street, wind whipping through his hair, he felt like he could sprout wings and fly away. 

The next day went by in a haze, not just for Richie, but for all the Losers. Mike texted whenever he could, asking for updates and offering reassurances, Bill’s stutter came back with a vengeance and Ben kept dropping things. It got to the point where Bev just started carrying Ben’s stuff for him, and Eddie offered Bill his inhaler after a particularly frustrating sentence. Stan even came up with a plan. Mike would take off early to meet them after school let out, and the Losers would ride out with Richie as far as the beginning of Hockstetters street. Richie would stay an hour and a half, and Stan would meet him where they dropped him off. The two would then go back to Stan’s house, where Richie would stay the night. It was as good a plan as they could get, though none of them were happy that Richie would be alone. 

Finally, faster then Richie would have liked, it was 3:30, and the last bell of the day rang. Of the six, only Bill and Ben were in a club, Creative Writing, and Journalism, though Bev did an art thing at the community centering the weekends. Right now, Richie was trying to convince the two of them not to skip their club, “Seriously, I know I’m irresistible, but I’ll be fine.”

Bill scoffed “M-more like irritating” he looked at Richie seriously for a moment before nodding “alr-right, but t-text us when you g-get there.” Richie rolled his eyes as dramatically as possible but agreed anyway. Ben and Bill split off, and the rest made their way outside to meet with Mike. He was waiting for them at the bike racks and greeted them with a broad smile.

“Hey guys, Bill and Ben at club?” he asked, throwing an arm around Bev’s shoulders. Stan answered as the others unchained their bikes. As they waited for more people to leave, a shout of surprise caught their attention. A few yards away, a kid was bending down to pick up his dropped books as Henry Bowers, and Victor Criss walked away laughing. Most of the people in the yard watched as the two joined the other members in ‘Belch’ Huggins’s old Camry.

“I hate them so fucking much,” Eddie said as they watched the car speed off. Stan sighed and placed a commiserating hand on his friend’s shoulder and looked to Richie with a pinched look on his face. Richie just reached out and ruffled Eddie’s hair.

“Eddie Spaghetti! Do you kiss your mommy with that mouth?” Richie gasped, affecting as scandalized tone as he could. 

“That’s not my name, asshole!” Eddie snapped. “And no, I kiss your mom with it.” The others all started laughing as Richie fake pouted. By the time the crowd thinned out, it was around 4:15, and Richie felt the anxiety begin to build in his gut. Stan noticed and shot the other three a look. They spent the remainder of their time together trying to distract Richie from his upcoming doom. It didn’t really work, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

The minutes ticked by both unbearably slow and far to fast. They stopped at the end of Hockstetter’s street, and Richie turned to give them a solemn look. “Bev, I’m giving you all my dirty mags. You’ll appreciate them more than these swine. Mike, you get my comics. Eddie—oof.” A punch in the stomach cut him off, and Eddie glowered at him.

“Do not finish that sentence, fucker.” He snapped, waving his fist threateningly. Bev snickered behind her hand and shot him a wink when Richie caught her eye. He gusted an aggrieved sigh and remounted his bike.

“Adios Losers. I’ll see you at 6:30, Stan.” With one final smile, Richie swung around and made his way to his bully/tutoree’s house. 

It was just turning 5 when Richie pulled up to the house. It was a fairly nice house, modest with white, chipped siding and light blue trim. He left his bike off to the side of the driveway, and hesitantly climbed the front steps. It took only a moment after knocking for the door to open. Honestly, Richie had imagined a lot of scenarios for when that door opened. A middle-aged woman with Patrick Hockstetter’s eyes wasn’t one of them.

“Oh! You must be the Tozier boy. Patrick told me you would be coming over.” She opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side “Please come in. Patrick is in the kitchen.” 

Feeling a bit dazed and very uncomfortable, Richie followed Mrs. Hockstetter to the kitchen; backpack strap gripped tightly. Richie didn’t know why he was so surprised to see Hockstetter actually sitting at the table. It was his house after all. It was kind of like seeing a teacher outside of school, he supposed. Hockstetter seemed just as surprised to see Richie, and maybe a bit impressed. It was clear he didn’t expect Richie to actually show up, which is probably why he told his mom to expect him in the first place. If Richie didn’t show, Hockstetter would look like the cooperative one, and he would get in trouble. It was far craftier than Richie would expect from the older teen. 

Mrs. Hockstetter left the kitchen with a parting smile, leaving Richie to stand in the doorway. He was just seriously considering running away when Hickstetter snorted, the sound more mocking then anything.

“Chill four-eyes, I’m not going to murder you in my kitchen.” Unsurprisingly this did nothing to reassure Richie. However, he decided to take the other at his word and sat in a chair across from Hockstetter. He spent a minute getting his stuff out of his bag, feeling like ants were crawling over his skin. When he looked up, he wasn’t surprised to find pale blue eyes fixed on him. Disconcerted, but not surprised. 

Richie shifted in his seat before flipping to a clean page in his notebook. “Um, right, so what do you need help with?” He asked. He darted his eyes back up to Hockstetter, before frowning. The other didn’t even have a pencil with him. “Do you... wanna get you stuff? Or are we just gonna stare into each other’s eyes and braid hair or some shit.” 

Slowly, like some kind of large cat, Hockstetter stood from his chair and dragged it around the table. He stopped about six inches away from Richie and sat heavily, never dropping his gaze for a second. He reached out and pulled Richie’s notebook towards himself, finally lowering his eyes to the blank page. 

Richie let out a slow, shuttering breath. His hands were clamming, and sweat had formed on his back. God, he was going to die, and it was because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. He took a moment to collect himself and pulled out the problem sheet. He yanked the notebook back and wrote out the first problem. It was pretty simple, more of a review question than anything. 

“Evaluate the expression if x=5  
8x+15(3x-9)/9x=?”

Hockstetter stared at the question for a moment before stealing Richies’ pencil. As he worked on the problem, Richie took the time to study him. The other’s dark brows were furrowed in concentration. For the first time, Richie thought Hockstetter was going to take this seriously. A few seconds later, the notebook was violently shoved back in his direction, snapping Richie out of his thoughts. Hockstetter was smirking, one brow raised in amusement.

“Well, teach, how’d I do?” He asked, leaning uncomfortably close. Richie cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to put some space between the two of them. Embarrassingly his cheeks started to heat up at the proximity. 

He quickly looked down and went over the answer.

8x+15(3x-9)/9x=42

Richie nodded, his cheeks cooling some, and wrote out the next question. It went like that for some time, the problems getting progressively harder as they went. Hockstetter got all of them right, and for a moment, Richie thought he could get out of there sooner then he thought. 

He noticed, however, that the room was suddenly silent. When he looked over, Hockstetter’s brows were furrowed in frustration instead of concentration. Richie peeked over at the question and wasn’t surprised that the other was stuck. It was a word problem, which were the worst.

A number consists of three digits of which the middle one is zero, and the sum of the other digits is 9. The number formed by interchanging the first and third digits is more than the original number by 297. Find the number. 

Richie winced as he read it over, he was about to offer help when the pencil in Hockstetter’s hand snapped violently. 

“Jesus fuck!” Richie shouted, flinching away in surprise. He stared wide-eyed at the end of his pencil before scowling. “That was my pencil, asshole! If you’re stuck, just ask me, that’s the whole fucking point of this!” He grabbed the remains of the pencil out of the other’s hand, not noticing the startled look he got. He glared down at the broken pencil for a moment, he had others, but it was the principle of the matter.

Abruptly Richie felt cold. He had forgotten he wasn’t helping one of his friends. Hesitantly he looked over, expecting to have his teeth knocked in. Strangely Hockstetter looked almost considering instead of angry. 

“Show me.” He demanded, still staring Richie down. 

Richie swallowed his first response, which was to curse him out and refuse. Instead, he tilted the notebook so both could see it and went over what he did. 

“First, you need to write out the given information. We know that the middle one is zero cause it says right here.” He circled the information, and step by step explained how to solve the problem. It didn’t take very long, Hockstetter seemed to pick up on things pretty quickly, which was confusing to Richie. It’s not like it’s any different than the teacher explaining it. 

“What, expecting me to be stupid?” Hockstetter asked when he noticed Richie’s look. He sounded mocking, but there was a note of defensiveness there too.

“Yes,” Richie answered without thinking. Hockstetter’s face darkened.”Wait, no, that’s not what I meant! I was just, if you could get it with me, why not the teacher. That’s all, really.” Richie put his hands up in a gesture of peace, hoping he wasn’t about to be punched. God, him and his mouth. What the fuck. 

“The bitch goes to fast. And like fuck am I asking questions in class. I’m not a nerd.” Hockstetter snapped. He was still glaring, but it didn’t look like he was going to take Richie’s head off anymore. 

Richie shrugged, “I get that. I just figure this shit out at home if I don’t understand. I already have the glasses, no need to it.” He said with a wry smile. 

Hockstetter snickered his agreement. “Why do you wear those anyway?” he asked. Before Richie could react, his glasses were being lifted off his face, and the world blurred into colored shapes. “Fuck, you are blind,” he heard the other say.

“Yeah, I am now, asshole. Give them back before I get a headache.” Richie snapped. He was already feeling the beginnings of one forming and didn’t want it to get worse. He held out his hand but didn’t hear anything. As the silence stretched, Richie started to get nervous. He was pretty vulnerable without his glasses and didn’t want to go through the trouble of getting new ones if Hockstetter decided to break them. 

After an anxiety-inducing minute or two, Richie felt something brush past his face. He jerked back but was halted by an iron grip and short, “Don’t move.”. Tense, Richie held as still as he could and blinked as the world came into sharp focus. The first thing he saw was Hockstetter, only inches from his face and staring intently.

Richie gulped and kept still, flushing when he saw Hockstetter’s eyes drop briefly to his lips. He felt a rush of relief and disappointment when the older teen drew back, dropping his grip on Richie’s arm. Both teens flinched as a phone buzzed suddenly in the tense quiet. 

“That, uh, it’s mine. Probably Stan or Bill. Um, shit. I’m late.” Richie typed out a quick assurance to the group chat and started collecting his stuff. He felt hot and nervous and prayed he wasn’t blushing. “We’re almost done if you want I can come back tomorrow, and we’ll finish this up.” His eyes widened “The worksheet! we can finish the worksheet up.” Richie stumbled to his feet and finally looked up. Hockstetter looked far more amused then he had the right to, leaning back in his chair and watching Richie make a fool of himself. 

“Tomorrow then,” Hockstetter agreed, “Have a good night Tozier.” 

With Hockstetter’s smirk burned in his mind, Richie, somehow, managed to make his way to Stan without crashing his bike. 

As rode down the street, Richie centered his thoughts. No way in hell was he telling anyone about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a bit longer than I was expecting, sorry about that. I'll be more consistent with the next chapter, which should be out Friday. I'm glad people are enjoying this so far, thank you all for the comments. I know a lot of people have Eddie being Richie's closest friend and confidant, but honestly, Stan fits that role better. If people want to know why I'll write it out in a comment.   
> Again, sorry for the wait and thank you to everyone who is reading this. <3

**Author's Note:**

> I was never a fan of this pairing and then I read tiigi's work and fell in love. Please check out their work as this was inspired by them.


End file.
